


predator

by garbagedad666



Category: Block B
Genre: Angst, M/M, and some possessive jiho hah, brief mentions of all seven of the cuties, fucking angst as hell jfc, happy endings tho, jaehyo is cute but sleeps around lmao, jiho is a lovestruck mess, love me some submissive jaehyo, okay just read the thing these tags aren't helping whatsoever, some drinking and hangovers n stuff, what was i ever writing idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:51:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagedad666/pseuds/garbagedad666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>generic jaeco angst fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	predator

**Author's Note:**

> warning: shameful gay angst ahead 
> 
> have fun it's 1 am what is my life

     Once Jiho realizes it, his blood runs cold and his body tingles like it’s been dipped in fire. His eyes sting and he feels acid falling from them, corroding his cheeks and making his scleras a bloody red from both the emotion and the  _ exhaustion _ of it all. Whenever Jiho sees him, venom rises in his throat and sprays at whomever he speaks.

     He’s a monster, but he doesn’t want to be.

     If he could go about it in a healthy, efficient way, he would. Jiho’s not one for unwanted drama--he simply doesn’t have time for it--so this is a wrench that  _ completely _ ruins his schedule, which may be why it’s eliciting such an involuntary response from him. The others are starting to notice, too: they know Jiho doesn’t get much sleep from work most of the time, but the way his features are sunken and his disposition is much more snappy than usual proves that he’s become something he doesn’t want to be.

    A drooling, lovestruck brute.

    He looks at himself in the crooked mirror of a club bathroom in Hongdae, numb from alcohol but not happy. Handsome from a few strokes of eyeliner and a few layers of BB cream, but not glowing. Not smiling and laughing and perfect, like  _ he  _ is. 

    Jiho ends up going to the dorm instead of his apartment, he’s so drunk. He stumbles inside and notices Minhyuk is still awake, watching some blurry late-night TV show with Taeil and Yukwon snoring beside him. 

    “You’re fucked up,” the older man informs him, his voice gentle but firm. “Go sleep in my room.”

     Jiho blinks, takes a minute to process, but nods and steps through the hallway, opening the first door he sees and flopping on an empty bed. 

     The scent on the mattress isn’t Minhyuk’s, but the aroma is of honey and clean laundry, so he doesn’t care. Jiho grips the sheets and smiles against the pillow because for once, this smell leaves good thoughts in his head. Before he knows it, he falls into the first dreamless sleep he’s had in weeks.

 

     The next morning, Jiho empties the contents of his stomach until there’s nothing but bile left. Jihoon and Minhyuk help carry him to the couch, give him water, tell him to stay there and not to move. Taeil even offers to run the errands he’s promised to do for the day. Although he has the urge to snap back and tell them to stop babying him, Jiho knows that he really  _ can’t _ do much, so he swallows down his rage and allows himself to relax as much as he can. In fact, his hangover is disappearing faster than he’d expected, but his body still feels like it’s made of paper--thin and easily crumpled.

     He’s taking a light nap when he hears the door open at twilight. All the others have gone out for dinner. Jihoon and Taeil had offered to stick around and care for him, but Jiho had insisted they go.  _ You don’t want to look after me all fucking day, anyway, _ he told them dryly, and they’d given him an unsure look before closing the door behind them.

     But that was only an hour ago. They couldn’t be back so soon, could they? 

     No. Jiho hears one set of footsteps, not five. They take one, two, three, four steps from the door, then stop. Jiho creaks an eye open and instantly regrets it.

     Staring back at him is Jaehyo, hair disheveled, eyes large and curious, skin radiant and shiny when the setting sun casts its light upon it through the window. 

     The sight is so beautiful that Jiho’s canines grow into viper fangs. 

     “Where the fuck were you for the past two days?” he snaps immediately, sitting up and trying to ignore the immediate dizziness that twirls in his skull.

     Jaehyo rubs the back of his neck and bites his lower lip, cheeks flushing just the slightest rosy shade of pink. 

     “I was...at a friend’s. Sorry I didn’t call or anything.”

      “You didn’t call,” Jiho repeats, hissing. “You  _ didn’t fucking call. _ I had no idea where you were. Use your head, Jaehyo,  _ Christ.  _ You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” His words are disorganized, but still hold the same purpose: to  _ hurt _ and  _ bruise _ and  _ sting _ that perfect, bouncing flesh of Jaehyo’s. Bouncing, glowing,  _ radiating _ light and drops of sunlight on the apples of his cheeks.

     He’s so enthralled by the sight that he doesn’t realize what Jaehyo responds with. Jiho stares at him dumbly for a few moments before sighing and tearing his eyes away.

     Jaehyo is stepping closer now, perching himself on the edge of the couch and looking at Jiho a bit more closely.

     “You seem sick.” He places his hand on Jiho’s forehead and the other man tenses at how cool and soft it is. 

     “No shit,” he retorts, but both of them know it’s weak.

     “Kyung texted me that they went out for dinner. I thought I could come home and get away with it, because he didn’t tell me you were here.” Jaehyo looks out the window and smiles, and Jiho has to dig his fingernails into his opposite wrist to avoid grabbing the other boy and forcing him closer. He wants that smile to hit him right where it hurts, because he  _ wants _ to hurt if it means Jaehyo smiling and laughing in his direction. 

     But Jiho is a monster, and conflicting feelings like these don’t process well.

     “Your hair is messy, and you’re fucking  _ glowing _ . You weren’t at a friend’s, Jaehyo.”

     The older man turns and licks his lips before parting them a little, thinking of a reply, but Jiho cuts him off before he can utter a reply.

     “Don’t make an excuse, you bastard.” He smiles, sardonic and predatory. “You hooked up last night. Probably some fucking stranger in Itaewon, wasn’t it?”

     The look in Jaehyo’s eyes is hurt and Jiho raises his eyebrows, both anticipating and dreading his answer.

     “...Yes.” 

      Now it’s Jiho’s turn to be speechless.

      Jaehyo’s eye twitches, but his voice remains soft, like he’s talking to a close friend or, worse, a lover. But his words are edged with razors, each one a light cut that renders Jiho bloody and irritated. 

     “Yes. I hooked up with a stranger in Itaewon. He  _ fucked _ me, actually. We did it twice that night, once in the morning, and once more not an hour ago. It’s nothing you’d be concerned about, would it?”

     The response comes out of Jiho’s mouth as sudden as the vomit did. “Yes, it fucking  _ is.” _

     Jaehyo moves back when Jiho suddenly stands, taking a step back as the younger man moves closer, licking his lips and feeling his throat suddenly get dry.

     “You’re in a world famous group, Jaehyo. You have a  _ reputation _ to uphold. Your own, Block B’s, and  _ mine. _ ” His teeth are bared and dangerous, and he can see fear reflected in Jaehyo’s eyes, along with something deeper and hotter that makes Jiho’s blood bubble. 

     “I don’t want to call some pretty flower boy who fucks random Itaewon guys  _ mine. _ ”

      Jaehyo licks his lips again, and this time it’s slow and intentional. Their faces are unwillingly coming closer together now. 

      Jaehyo pauses, before his mouth curls up into a heart-melting smile. Angelic, but teasing. 

      “So I’m  _ yours.” _

     Jiho’s about to feel embarrassed, but he can tell by the way Jaehyo is looking at him that it’s not meant to be rude. So he nods, drawing closer and letting his teeth brush slightly over Jaehyo’s bottom lip. The other lets out a breath, and it’s shaky and breathy enough to allow goosebumps to rise on the back of Jiho’s neck.

     “Mine. Don’t go out for that long again, or I’ll fucking  _ crucify _ you.”

      Jaehyo seems to get the message, because his eyes close and his hands move to grasp desperately at Jiho’s shoulders, pulling him closer and insisting that he continue. Jiho doesn’t move, isn’t sure what to do. The human buried beneath is wailing, screaming at him to pull away and apologize, but its cries are muffled by the monster instinct to  _ take _ what Jaehyo is so obviously giving.

     And, all at once, Jiho’s hands are insistently working under Jaehyo’s shirt as their lips crush together, hearing Jaehyo groan into his mouth as the younger man’s nails rake down the lean muscles of his back, leaving red marks that are bound to remain there for the next few days. Jaehyo is panting, making a few soft chirps against Jiho’s lips before the younger one lets their mouths open and their tongues meet, hot and messy and desperate. 

     Soon they’ve fallen back onto the couch, shirts tossed away across the room and completely forgotten. Jaehyo’s eyes are squeezed closed, still letting out slow breaths and the occasional moan that Jiho knows is only for him. 

     After both of them hit their peak, they lie together silently, catching their breath and pulling each other in for kisses, gentle and tender. When they pull away, Jaehyo smiles and Jiho’s heart completely melts. Any ice that’s been creeping up on him for the past few weeks completely dissolves in the sea of sugar and honey that is Ahn Jaehyo. 

     “Jaehyo-hyung,” he murmurs.

      “Hm?”

      “How do you feel about me?”

      “...I dunno yet.”

      “Okay.” Jiho smiles back at him, and the muscles needed to do so feel like they haven’t been exercised in ages. “‘Cause I kinda love you, y’know.”

      Jaehyo’s eyes widen, but the peace remains in balance. “That’s nice,” he says after a while, leaning in and starting to move slow kisses on Jiho’s protruding collarbone and shoulder. 

     “Jaehyo-hyung,” Jiho says again.

      “Yeah?”

      “Can we move to your bed?”

      Jaehyo groans, but nods and shuffles himself back into his boxers, leading Jiho to his room. 

      They fall asleep to the smell of honey and clean laundry. 

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking love ahn jaehyo jesus christ
> 
> also i was thinking of writing a collection of block b gore fics  
> like choosing what kind of gore would match each member's personality and stuff, so if anyone has any suggestions please feel free to message me! <3


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